


Schemes of the Heart

by ajstyling, OneBedManyShips



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hickeys and Biting, Jealous Sylvain, M/M, Shirtless Claude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajstyling/pseuds/ajstyling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneBedManyShips/pseuds/OneBedManyShips
Summary: Claude and Hilda put together a scheme to help Felix and Sylvain get together.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 16
Kudos: 161





	Schemes of the Heart

As a rush of students pushed through the doors and into the dining hall, Claude and Hilda took their usual seats, side-by-side, at the table in the back corner of the room. They sat with their backs pressed against the stone walls of the room, giving them a panoramic view of the dining hall and all the people that filled it. 

Some days they came with prepared gossip like the latest Lorenz escapade or another inexplicable thing that Byleth did. Today, however, as they settled in to their table, they resolved to let the gossip come to them. 

Hilda cast her eyes around the hall, searching for their first victims. Never one to disappoint, they watched as doey-eyed Ferdinand trailed behind a bemused and slightly annoyed Dorothea into the dining hall. Despite the dining hall’s variety of options, Ferdinand carried a small tray of baked goods in his hands—clearly an offering of sorts.

“Oh sweet, Dorothea,” Claude said with an exaggerated parroting of Ferdinand, “I think you will find these to be of a far nobler quality than the meager offerings of the monastery dining hall.”

Hilda laughed into her food, “Wow! Who knew your Ferdinand was so good?”

“If you think that’s good, just wait until you hear my Dorothea,” Claude said before breaking into a series of high-pitched, faux vocal exercises.

Hilda slapped at his arm between fits of giggles, “Oh my Serios. Stop, I can’t even handle you right now.”

“But Hilda,” Claude said, switching from high-pitched falsetto back to a pretentious tenor without missing a beat, “It is my noble duty to perform these impressions.”

Hilda laughed again before asking, “Do you think people talk about us?” 

“Why of course,” Claude said. “We are dining hall royalty after all.”

“What do you suppose they say?”

Claude shrugged and after a slight pause said, “Who knows?” 

“I bet they think we’re courting.”

A light blush settled on Claude’s cheeks and he swallowed his stew much too quickly. A series of loud coughs racked his body as he refused to meet Hilda’s eyes.

He regained his composure after several seconds of coughing and, with eyes watering from the coughing fit, asked, “Why would people think that?”

Hilda shook her head. “For someone so smart, you sure can be dense sometimes.”

Claude laughed. “Well then, enlighten me.”

“Let’s see,” Hilda pretended to count on her fingers. “We eat dinner together every night, I spend nights in your room, I’ve unfortunately agreed to take wyvern lessons with you, you still wear the earing I made you years ago, not to mention that some people just get so caught up in the fact that I’m a Goneril and you’re a Riegan.”

Claude’s blush showed no signs of fading. “But lots of people eat dinner together every night… like them.” 

He nodded toward the side entrance of the dining hall. Both of them watched with interest as Felix and Sylvain strode through the door. Sylvain talked animatedly at Felix who silently glowered. Sylvain slung an arm around Felix’s shoulder and attempted to steer them toward the table where several of the other Faerghus delegates sat. Felix cast aside Sylvain’s arm with an angry glare and rushed ahead to take a seat beside Ingrid. Sylvain was left the seat beside Annette at the opposite end of the table. 

Hilda rolled her eyes. “That’s because they want to be courting. Or at least fucking.”

“Oh?” Claude quirked an eyebrow. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Have you seen the look on Felix’s face anytime Sylvain mentions hitting on women?”

“I just assumed that was because Sylvain is annoying.”

“That’s true, but I also saw Sylvain voluntarily training with Felix in the morning,” Hilda shuddered with disgust at her own mention of training.

Claude’s eyes wandered back to the table, closely observing the furtive glances Sylvain cast Felix’s way. 

“Hmmm.” He absentmindedly played with a strand of hair at the side of his face. “I take it neither of them know how the other feels?”

“Totally oblivious.”

Claude paused thoughtfully before he asked, “How would you feel about making them less oblivious to those feelings?”

They both turned toward each other and locked eyes.

“Schemes?” Hilda asked.

Claude nodded. “Schemes.”

* * *

Claude found Sylvain the next morning sitting at a small table in the gardens and setting up the board for their weekly chess match.

Claude greeted him by way of a small nod and took the seat across from him. As he sat, Sylvain flipped the board around so the white pieces sat in front of him and the black piece in front of Claude.

“I think I’ll play white this time,” Sylvain said.

Claude smirked. “It won’t help.”

“Well see about that,” Sylvain said, beginning the game and cautiously moving his pawn forward.

They fell into a companionable silence as they both maneuvered around the board. Claude had to admit, Sylvain was getting better. Weeks of playing together meant that Sylvain had picked up on some of his tricks and strategies. They traded moves and pieces for several minutes before Claude decided it was time to employ his winning gambit.

“So,” he asked, moving a pawn that dared Sylvain’s rook to strike it down. “How are your prospects looking these days?”

“My prospects?” Sylvain hesitated with the knight in hand.

“Yes, your prospects. Anyone caught your eye lately?”

“Oh,” Sylvain hesitated a second too long before sloppily falling into Claude’s trap and moving his knight forward to capture the pawn. “Well, you know there are just too many to choose from.”

“Naturally.” Claude moved his bishop forward to take his knight. 

Sylvain cursed under his breath as he realized what Claude had baited him into. 

“That wasn’t very sporting,” he said.

“Sporting is boring,” Claude retorted. “What about any of the Faerghus nobility?”

“What about them?” Sylvain’s eyes narrowed as he rashly moved his second knight into a precarious position.

“Are any of them prospects?” Claude let each word linger before moving his Queen forward to capture the second of Sylvan’s knights. 

Claude watched as Sylvain blushed, shook his head, and then cursed once more when he looked back down at the board. 

Still he managed to affect an impressively neutral tone when he answered, “Nah.”

“That’s a shame. I always thought you and Felix might be a thing.”

Sylvain shook his head with a bemused smirk, “Swords are the only thing Felix is into.”

“What if he was into your sword?” Claude pressed.

Sylvain dropped his queen from his hand and watched as it bounced against the floor twice before coming to a rest a few feet away.

“That won’t happen.”

“But you’ve thought about it happening?”

Sylvain sighed. “Okay, yes. I’ve thought about it. Look at him. Of course, I’ve thought about it. I’m sure you’ve thought about it. Who hasn’t thought about it?”

Claude shrugged and gave a small nod. “What exactly have you thought about it?”

Their chess game was long forgotten now, the queen still sitting on the ground beside the table. Sylvain slid a ring from the pinkie of his left hand and set it on the board in front of Claude.

“Do you know what that is?” he asked.

“Looks like a ring,” Claude smirked. 

“And do you know what the pattern on it is?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, but if I had to bet I’d say it’s the Gautier family crest.”

“Right in one,” Sylvain sighed and asked, “And do you know what it means?”

“I don’t quite understand what this has to do with Felix being interested in your sword,” Claude teased.

Sylvain ignored him. “It means that one day my parents are going to find me a prestigious noblewoman from a good line with a good crest. They will find her and I will marry her and we will have children until one of them bears a crest.”

“It means you can’t be with Felix,” Claude frowned and finished the thought for him.

Sylvain sighed once more. “It means that I won’t even let myself think about being with Felix.”

“That’s a shame,” Claude sighed as well.

Sylvain offered Claude the sort of obviously fake smile that Claude had come to know and perfect. “The good news is, like I said, Felix has never met a person he’s liked more than training, so it won’t matter.”

“Hmmm,” Claude pretended to be deep in thought. “Is this the wrong time to mention that I’ve heard some gossip that suggests otherwise?”

“What?” Sylvain gripped the table hard.

“I’ve got a friend who seems pretty convinced that Felix is into a lot more than just swords.” 

“Your friend is lying.”

“For one, they said he’s really into biting,” Claude continued.

“Your friend is _lying_.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. They are a very reliable source.”

“Who is she, Claude?” Sylvain asked as his eyes narrowed.

The cathedral bells rang in the distance three times and Claude immediately stood from his chair, “Ah apologies, the bells mean it’s time for me to go. Thanks as always for the game!” 

Sylvain jumped to his feet, “Claude, who is your friend? Tell me her name!”

Claude began to walk quickly toward the exit to the gardens while Sylvain remained fixed to the spot. Right before he exited the gardens Claude called back, “Oh don’t worry. Like you said, I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

* * *

As far as places in the monastery went, Hilda would not put the training room near the top of her list of favorites.

Yet as the afternoon sun stretched high in the sky, Hilda found herself pushing her way through a set of large double doors to stand inside the small training facilities. A stale smell of sweat washed over her as she entered the room. She sighed—the things she did for Claude and his schemes. 

Felix stood in the corner furthest from the entryway, he used the wooden sword in his hand to perform a series of thrusts and jabs on the training dummy in front of him. Occasionally, he would hop back in a practiced, exaggerated feint before he lunged forward once more and continued his assault on the wooden dummy. 

Hilda grabbed a training sword from the nearest weapon rack and moved toward the back of the training hall. She stood in front of a training dummy a few feet away from Felix and began to half-heartedly swing the sword. She knew boys, very few of them would resist the chance to help “teach her” the proper form. So she stood there for several minutes lazily swinging the sword without an ounce of effort. Felix didn’t glance her direction once and rarely stopped his movements for more than a few seconds. 

Hilda groaned internally. This was going to be more work than she expected. She quickly brought the training sword up and threw it against the ground with great force. The wooden sword made a loud thud as it bounced against the ground toward the training dummy Felix stood in front of.

Felix picked up the wooden sword and shoved it in Hilda’s direction as he gruffly said, “Maybe stick with axes.”

Hilda gently took the wooden sword from Felix with one hand while using the other to twirl her hair. “But how will I improve if I don’t train with a sword?”

Felix watched her silently.

“Mayyybbeee, you could teach me,” Hilda offered.

“No.”

“Awww! But surely a handsome, skilled swordsman like yourself has much to teach a delicate flower like myself.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed before he turned from her and back toward his own training dummy, “Pointy end goes in the enemy,” he grunted, “and stick with axes.”

Hilda gave another long, loud sigh. This required a more direct approach. Hopefully Claude would be alright with her throwing subtlety out the door.

“So, did you hear about Sylvain?” 

Felix didn’t cease his movements at all. “What about him?”

“His parents reached a tentative agreement for him to enter in a courtship with—”

Felix swung the wooden sword with enough force that it split in two across the training dummy’s torso. 

“What?” he growled, holding nothing but the haft of the training sword in his hand.

“Oh, it’s just a small bit of gossip I heard.”

“Whoever told you that is wrong.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“He would have told me,” Felix spat angrily. 

“And why would he tell you?” Hilda asked innocently.

“He—he just would.” Doubt flickered across his face.

The moment of truth arrived and Hilda knew it.

“You know,” Hilda said, “if you had something important to say to Sylvain... Maybe some feelings you wanted to express... Claude and I could help.”

Felix regained his composure quickly, gathered up the pieces of the shattered training sword, and set them down beside one of the nearby weapon racks before he took another training sword from the rack.

“I don’t know what you mean and I have to train.”

Hilda pressed on. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Felix, but Sylvain is an idiot. If you don’t tell him, he won’t figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Felix said as he began another round of exercises.

“Ughhh, boys.” Hilda rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s obvious to Claude and I how you feel and we can help you make it obvious to Sylvain.”

Felix didn’t respond.

With one final exasperated sigh, Hilda tossed the training sword aside—Felix could pick it up later—and made her way toward the exit. 

“Well if you decide to stop being Mr. Tough No Feelings Man,” she called from the doorway, “Come find Claude and me. We can help.”

As she turned to push through the doors and leave, Sylvain strode purposefully through them and into the training room.

Hilda could read Sylvain like a book, so she didn’t miss the obvious confusion and then suspicion that flashed across his face. She watched as he tried to mask both feelings with one of the largest, fakest grins she had ever seen.

“Hi there, gorgeous,” he said. “I never expected to run into a beautiful lady such as yourself in this dingy old room.”

Hilda rolled her eyes and then jumped with surprise at a loud crashing noise from the back corner of the room. She turned around and saw Felix hovering over a shattered training dummy. His whole body shook with barely concealed rage. His hand seemed on the verge of snapping another training sword. With a smirk, Hilda turned back toward the door and exited without giving Felix or Sylvain a second look. In her mind, she offered a quick word of thanks to Sylvain, who had managed to help their scheme more in five seconds than Hilda had been able to with an entire conversation. She was now certain that Felix would seek out her and Claude--sooner rather than later.

Back in the training room, Sylvain looked at Felix dumbfounded. 

“Fe, since when do you train with Hilda?” he asked.

“I don’t. Grab a sword. Now.”

“If you don’t train with her then what was she doing here?”

“Being a bother.”

“How so?”

“Similar to you. Asking questions. Sword. Now.” Felix grabbed one from the rack beside him and threw it across the room toward Sylvain who deftly caught it with his left hand.

“Woah, easy. That could have hurt me.”

“Not if you were paying attention.” 

Without wasting a moment, Felix began to advance on Sylvain with his sword at the ready. Sylvain got into a defensive stance not a moment too soon as Felix lunged forward and swung the blade toward Sylvain’s side. Sylvain parried the blow but staggered back a few steps from the force of Felix’s strike. 

“Easy!” Sylvain shouted. “Don’t want to hurt this pretty face.”

Felix jumped forward and swung straight at Sylvain’s face. He parried and staggered back once more. Sylvain watched Felix advance as he raised his blade for another strike.

“You know, Felix,” Sylvain said, “If you’re looking for tips, I’m always happy to help.”

“Why would I want sword fighting tips from _you_?” Felix spat.

“Oh no, not fighting tips. Loving tips.”

Felix paused mid-step. “Loving tips?”

Sylvain smirked. “Of course. You know… how to flirt with girls, ways to make them happy, really any tips you need.”

“That’s all you ever think about. Isn’t it?” Felix growled and lunged forward. He punctuated each word with a swing of his sword. “You. Stupid. Stupid. Idiot.”

With one final swing, Felix sent Sylvain’s training sword flying across the room--just another casualty of this latest training session. 

Sylvain raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry.”

Felix kept his sword raised, but did not move to swing again. His eyes narrowed. “For what?”

“For hitting on Hilda.”

Felix grunted and lowered his sword. “Fine.”

“Can we go get dinner now?” Sylvain asked.

“I need to clean this mess first.”

“I can help,” Sylvain offered.

“Fine.”

Feix moved back toward the far corner of the room and began to gather up the broken splinters of the training swords he broke. 

“You know,” Sylvain called from across the room, “Next time you can just tell me.”

Felix blushed furiously. “I can?”

“Of course! I know I screw around a lot, but I really do care about your feelings.”

“Oh.” The blush had turned a deep red now.

“So you have my word. That I’ll stop.”

“You’ll stop?”

“Yes, I’ll stop flirting with Hilda immediately. She’s all yours buddy.”

The splinters of the training swords crashed against the ground as Felix dropped them. 

“You’re an idiot. And you can clean up by yourself.” 

Without another word Felix walked purposefully out of the room, leaving behind a disorderly training room and a very confused Sylvain.

* * *

Later that night, Claude and Hilda gathered in his room to update each other on the scheme’s progress. Claude sat at the foot of the bed with his back pressed against the wall while Hilda rested her head on Claude’s pillows and her feet across his lap.

Just as they settled comfortably in, their conversation was interrupted by a series of loud raps against the door. They gave each other a questioning look.

“Let me in,” a gruff voice hissed through the door.

The questioning looks became knowing grins and Claude slid out from beneath Hilda’s legs to move toward the door.

“Hello there, Felix.” Claude smirked as he pulled open the door. “What can we do for you this fine evening?”

Felix pushed roughly past Claude. “For one you can shut the damn door.”

Felix stood in front of the desk and shifted from side to side as Claude moved back to the bed and assumed his position at the foot of it.

They all sat in silence for a few moments, Claude and Hilda exchanged a quick look while Felix stood awkwardly and refused to speak.

Hilda broke the silence first. “This late night visit wouldn’t have anything to do with your training routine from earlier today would it, Felix?”

Felix sighed deeply. “You said you can help.”

“We can,” Claude offered warmly, “On two conditions.”

Felix growled menacingly and Hilda decided to let Claude do the talking.

“Hilda didn’t mention conditions,” Felix practically spat. 

“Oh they’re not a big deal. A small trifle really,” Claude’s grin grew wider.

“First,” he said, “You need to promise to do what we say.”

At his side, Felix squeezed his fists so hard that Hilda thought they might burst into flames. But he still nodded his silent assent. 

“What’s the second?” he asked. 

“Repeat after me: I have feelings for Sylvain.”

“Fuck you.”

“Awww, come on.”

“Fuck. You.”

“Fine,” Claude sighed, “Just the one condition then.”

Felix offered them a sigh to match, but nodded slightly. “Alright then, what’s the plan?”

“It’s simple,” Hilda said, “You’re going to pretend to date Claude.”

Felix groaned, “That’s it? That’s your brilliant plan?”

“I’ll remind you,” Claude said, “About our _one_ condition for helping you.”

Felix gave one final, exaggerated sigh before he conceded, “Fine.”

Hilda turned toward Claude and they exchanged one last conspiratorial grin, “Great. That’s just step one.”

* * *

Felix and Claude’s schedules changed dramatically over the next week. Each morning they were seen sneaking into the training room for “archery lessons.” For the most part, these “lessons” involved Claude settling into the corner with a book on the intricacies of Fódlan politics or some similar topic while Felix conducted his usual training routine. During the few times these morning sessions had other students present, Claude used a hands on method to teach Felix some of the basics of archery.

Beyond these morning training sessions, they also ate every lunch together and at night Felix would reluctantly join Claude, and Hilda, in his room. Claude or Hilda would occasionally attempt small talk, never reciprocated, but for the most part these times were spent in a shared, semi-comfortable silence.

They gathered once more, after a week of this routine, in Claude’s room. Felix sat in the corner, cleaning his weapon while Claude and Hilda shared his bed once more. Hilda tinkered with a few small jewelry crafts while Claude lost himself in another book--this time on the historical relationship between Fódlan and Almyra. The usual silence was interrupted when Felix tossed his sword on the ground with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Something wrong, Felix?” Hilda asked, not looking up from the necklace she worked on. 

“Yes,” he said, “this entire plan.”

“Hmm, what ever could you mean?” Hilda asked.

“Sylvain is a little annoyed I’m not eating with him and a little happy that he’s not training with me, but I don’t see how any of this is helping.”

Hilda looked up from her necklace with a huge grin and a devilish glint in her eyes. 

“You hear that, Claude,” Hilda said. “The plan isn’t working. Maybe it’s time for step two.”

“Step two?” Felix looked confused.

Claude shifted uncomfortably on the bed, “Hilda anticipated this little snag and has devised a, and I quote, ‘foolproof solution.’”

Felix’s eyes narrowed, “What’s step two?” 

Claude turned toward Hilda who quirked an eyebrow and stared back, resolutely refusing to be the one to explain. 

“Fine.” Claude sighed, “Hilda thinks we need some more… visible signs of dating.”

“Visible?”

“Yes, something Sylvain can’t avoid or ignore.”

Felix looked more confused than annoyed now. “Isn’t that the same as step one?”

Claude scratched the back of his neck nervously and tried to explain again. “No, not quite. Hilda was thinking a little more ‘intimate’ signs.”

Felix stared blankly at both of them as Claude continued to fumble for words.

“Hickeys,” Hilda said at last. “One of you needs hickeys.”

Another, different type of silence fell on the room as both Claude and Felix blushed furiously. No one spoke for several seconds as Hilda let the words sink in. This time, Felix broke the silence as the red blush of embarrassment quickly became a red of anger.

“I will not be getting hickeys,” he spluttered.

Hilda shrugged, “Okay, you can give Claude them then.”

“What?” Claude and Felix asked at the same time.

“This plan only works if one of you has marks that Sylvain can see.”

Felix shot out of his chair and marched toward the door, “No. Absolutely not. I. Will. Not.”

Words failed Claude, but luckily Hilda had enough for both of them. “You promised to do everything we said.”

Felix stopped near the door. “I will do anything. But that.”

Hilda rolled her eyes. “So you won’t give Claude hickeys and you won’t let him give you any?”

“Exactly.”

“Ughhh. You’re so boring,” Hilda whined.

“Well, it was a nice idea,” Claude said, his blush only now beginning to fade, “but perhaps we can think of another obvious way to get Sylvain’s attention?”

Hilda turned toward Claude with a renewed zeal and a predatory glance. “Oh, I’ve thought of another way.”

“Huh?” Felix and Claude asked at the same time.

“Someone in this room is getting hickeys.”

“I don’t—” Felix began.

“You.” Hilda nodded toward Claude.

“Huh?” Claude asked.

“You’re getting hickeys.”

Hilda spun her legs off of Claude’s and moved to kneel beside him at the foot of the bed. Felix stood near the entrance, a confused and slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

“You are getting hickeys,” Hilda repeated as she quickly tossed the book from Claude’s lap on the ground and replaced it with her body.

Claude’s blush returned with a force as Hilda sat astride him and eye contact became an impossibility for him.

“This was not quite what we talked about, Hilda,” he whispered.

“I’m improvising. Aren’t you proud?” she whispered back.

From the doorway, Felix’s voices jolted them out of their whispers, “I’m going to leave and let you carry on with… whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely at them.

“You’re going to stay,” Hilda said forcefully, not breaking her gaze from Claude. “This only works if Sylvain thinks you’re the one giving them to him. So sit your ass in that chair and don’t be weird.”

Felix seemed to debate with himself for a moment. “And the hickeys won’t involve me at all?”

“What do you think, Claude? Can we make the hickeys happen without Felix’s help?”

Claude swallowed deeply.

“That,” the word came out in a stuttered whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “That sounds fine, Hilda. Great scheme as always.”

“You’re weird,” Felix offered pointedly, but he marched back to his chair in the corner and resumed his sword cleaning.

On the bed, with Hilda straddling him, Claude’s heart beat so wildly that he thought it might burst through his chest. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent a fair bit of time imagining very similar situations, although none of them involved a slightly embarrassed Felix sitting in the corner. 

His imagination had always left him with questions: What would her lips feel like pressed to his? How would her lips fit together with his? Would the peach lip balm she was always applying taste as good as it smelled? Would his kisses leave her flushed and wanting more? 

The questions pressed on his mind once more as his palms turned sweaty and his face flushed red. From somewhere that seemed impossibly far off he heard the gentle hint of a question.

“Huh?” he asked.

A hand pressed gently against his face and directed his eyes back toward her. Hilda gave him a small, meaningful smile followed by an exaggerated wink.

“Are you okay?” she repeated, “You seemed a bit trapped in your head there.”

Her perfume washed over him, a subtle hint of vanilla that fogged his brain and made words difficult to come by. They’d spent so many hours in this very bed, but this felt new, different, and very scary.

“I’m fine,” he managed at last with as much bravado as he could muster. 

“It might be easier,” she nodded toward the coat of his uniform, “if you take that off.”

Claude nodded slowly. He fumbled with the buttons on his coat, hands shaking nervously the whole time. Hilda made no effort to help him. When at last the final button sprung free, Claude shrugged the coat off his shoulders before taking it fully off and throwing it to the ground. He sat on the bed in a bright gold shirt that was tucked into his high-waisted pants. He gave a small but noticeable shiver.

“Cold?” Hilda asked.

“Yes,” Claude lied.

“You’re very red for someone who is cold,” she winked again.

Claude gave one more nervous chuckle as his eyes wandered to Hilda’s lips of their own accord. 

“What do you need from me?” he finally managed to ask.

Hilda giggled. “Just act natural.”

“Act natural?”

Felix groaned from the corner. Both Claude and Hilda chose to ignore it.

“Exactly,” Hilda grabbed a handful of Claude’s shirt in one of her hands and pulled him toward her with a powerful force. 

When her lips pressed against his, though, they were impossibly soft and delicate. He no longer had to wonder how they felt or what they tasted like, though for a brief moment the thought crossed his mind that it might be the _only thing_ he ever thinks about again. And then the thought was gone and so were her lips.

Claude felt warmer than ever and his breath came in a series of rapid inhales. For a moment, his own schemes seemed impossibly far away and unimportant.

His stupor was interrupted by Hilda. “You’re a natural!”

“What?”

“I said act natural and you nailed it.”

“Oh,” Claude scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Thanks?”

“Now onto step two!”

“Wha—”

His words were lost as she pulled him forward and their lips found each other’s once more. After a moment, her lips began to move from his lips, across his jawline and down to the small divot where his throat met his jaw.

A quiet, breathy moan escaped his lips as he felt her tongue tease the skin there and was followed by a much louder, equally breathy moan when she lightly grazed her teeth along the same spot. Claude clenched his fists tightly on the bed and fought hard to maintain his cool. A battle he was rapidly losing as Hilda licked, sucked, and bit all across his neck and behind his ears. 

The blissful and, for Claude, frankly confusing moment was interrupted was a series of three quick knocks on Claude’s door. Claude and Felix both turned toward the door, though Hilda showed no signs of stopping. 

Claude debated ignoring the knocks. As he felt Hilda bite down on the side of his neck with a pleasantly distracting amount of force, he decided that seemed like the best option. 

Harder to ignore was Felix hissing from the corner, “Aren’t you going to answer?”

Impossible to ignore was when Sylvain called through the door, “Hey, buddy just wanted to see if we were on for our game tomorrow?”

Claude made a noise somewhere between a moan and a groan. Of course they were on for their game tomorrow. Claude hadn’t missed a week since he was horribly ill during Blue Sea Moon. Plus, their scheme, the reason Hilda was currently nipping at his throat so pleasantly, depended on this game happening. He found it hard to believe Sylvain would be knocking on his door just to confirm that game.

“Yes,” he managed to find the word at last.

“Are you okay?” Sylvain asked.

Claude cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind as Hilda moved her mouth to the other side of his neck. “I’m fine! Did you need anything else?”

There was a brief pause before Sylvain asked, “You haven’t seen Felix recently have you?”

That, at last, drew Hilda back from Claude’s neck which was now covered in obvious bite marks and good portion of her lip balm. She leaned back and, without a word, exchanged a look with the other two.

“Nope,” Claude said at last, still a bit breathless.

“You sure you’re fine?” 

“Of course.”

“Well, if you see Felix let me know.” 

Felix, Claude, and Hilda sat in silence as they listened to Sylvain’s footsteps retreat down the corridor. 

Hilda spoke when the footsteps could no longer be heard. “He definitely didn’t believe you.”

Claude nodded slowly, his full thoughts only now returning to him.

“What does that mean?” Felix asked.

“It means,” Hilda smiled mischievously, “That our plan is working.”

Felix stood up from the chair in the corner. “Great, so I’m going to head back to my room now.”

Hilda leaned in close to Claude to look at his neck and ran her fingers gently over a few of the bite marks leaving a light, tingling sensation each place she touched.

“I think,” she pretended to be deep in thought, “Claude needs a few more hickeys. Just to be sure.”

Claude nodded again, quicker this time. “When it comes to schemes, you can never be too sure.”

“Exactly,” Hilda said. 

“Unbelievable,” Felix shook his head and muttered under his breath before he sat back down. “This better fucking work.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Hilda looked only at Claude, who saw in her eyes a zeal he didn’t quite recognize. “This will work exactly as planned.”

* * *

The next morning, Claude arrived deliberately late to his chess game with Sylvain following another morning “training session” with Felix. As with the previous week, Sylvain had the board set-up and ready to play, though his mood seemed a bit more subdued.

“You’re late,” Sylvain said as he made the first move.

Claude took his seat and moved one of his pawns without glancing at the board.

“Sometimes these things can’t be helped,” he said.

They played in silence for a few minutes, each one’s eyes locked on the board, but Claude could tell that Sylvain was bursting at the seams to ask him questions.

Claude picked up one of his knights and pretended to deliberate his next move. With his free hand, he tugged gently at the collar of his uniform, shifting the collar enough to give Sylvain a clear sight at his neck.

He watched as Sylvain’s eyes moved up from the board and traced the movements of the collar. Claude saw a quick light of recognition in his eyes when they traced across the small bruises dotting his neck.

“Are those—” Sylvain began.

“Check,” Claude said as he placed his knight back down on the board.

He quickly tugged his collar in a show of attempting to hide the bruises. He watched as Sylvain’s eyes narrowed, all pretense of interest in the game now thrown aside.

“You know,” Sylvain said, “I could have sworn I heard you moaning when I stopped by your room last night.”

Claude gave a small shrug. “Sometimes the monastery plays tricks on our ears. And it’s still Check.”

“It wasn’t a trick.”

“How could you know that? It’s a rather confounding place after all.”

“I know what moans sound like.”

Claude shrugged silently. “Still check.”

Sylvain rushed carelessly through his next move. After moving a piece on the board he looked back up at Claude with barely concealed suspicion.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve noticed you and Felix have started training together in the mornings.”

“He wanted to learn how to use a bow, who am I to say no.”

“He’s also eating dinner with you.”

“More archery lessons I’m afraid.”

“Why is Hilda there then?”

“She wants to learn to shoot a bow as well.”

“Hilda wanting to learn is the worst lie you’ve told so far.”

Claude shrugged. “Not a lie and checkmate.”

Claude stood up from his seat, his work was done here. The rest was up to Hilda. He strode away quickly, leaving Sylvain with nothing but questions.

* * *

Hilda sighed contentedly and relaxed into the wooden bench beneath her. At the other end of the sauna, an attendant poured water over coals which causes a pleasantly warm gust of steam to pass through the room and over her. She sat, eyes closed, as the sauna’s warmth relieved the tension in her axe-weary muscles—Claude had been running everyone pretty hard for the last couple of weeks and that was before this scheme began.

A cool breeze interrupted Hilda’s calm as the door to the sauna flung open. Her eyes opened briefly and she watched as Sylvain entered and shut the door behind himself quickly. She closed her mind once more and listened as he moved closer and sat down in the spot beside her. 

“About time” she said without opening an eye, “Hilda needs her gossip.”

Sylvain laughed. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He sighed and relaxed back against the bench, spreading his legs much farther than necessary. Hilda rolled her eyes and scooted slightly to the side.

“Well,” she said, “what do you have for me?”

“Not much today.”

“Awww.”

“Just one thing really,” Sylvain said conspiratorially. 

“Hmmm, go on.”

“It’s about Claude.”

“Ooo! You’ve got dirt on our fearless leader?”

“He’s hooking up with someone,” Sylvain said.

“What makes you say that?

“He showed up to our weekly chess game with hickeys all over his neck.”

Hilda pretended to gasp.

“I’m not an idiot, Hilda. If anyone knows who he’s hooking up with, it’s definitely you. You’re practically attached at the hip.”

Hilda glanced around the mostly empty sauna. A couple students sat scattered in the various corners and Hilda gave each of them a quick glance, as if checking to see if it was safe to speak. 

“I know he’s seeing someone, but I don’t know his name. Yet,” she said.

“Well, I think you should help me find—wait, his name?”

“Oh yeah,” Hilda said without missing a beat, “he mentioned that he’s been meeting up with some guy for the past several nights but wouldn’t say who.”

Hilda watched as this new information settled in Sylvain’s mind and appeared to leave him more confused than ever before, as if he had all but the most important part of a tricky equation. 

“So,” Sylain said slowly, still stuck on the Claude equation, “How do we find out who it is?”

“Oh,” Hilda said, “that’s easy. They’re meeting again tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Claude said they were interrupted last night, so I’m letting them use my room tonight.” 

“Okay,” Sylvain repeated.

Hilda shook her head. Subtlety was truly wasted on some people.

“We spy on them, Sylvain.” 

Comprehension dawned on Sylvain’s face at last. 

“I’m in,” he nodded.

* * *

Hilda and Sylvain made their way up the steps to the second floor of the dormitory and crept quietly past Ingrid’s room once they reached the top. As they passed Marianne’s room, he heard a muffled thump against the wood of Hilda’s door followed by a deep, not so muffled, moan.

Hilda glanced conspiratorially at Sylvain. “I think that was Claude.”

As they quietly shuffled closer to Hilda’s room, they heard a few more moans through the wooden door, followed by hushed whispers they couldn’t quite make out.

As Sylvain moved closer to the door, he heard a voice, very clearly not Claude’s, moan. “Oh fuck.” 

Sylvain turned toward Hilda with a panicked whisper, “That voice.”

All at once, everything clicked into place for him. All of the variables became clear and the equation was solved. 

Felix. 

Felix hadn’t been forcing Sylvain to train with him in the mornings. He’d been taking archery lessons with Claude. 

Felix hadn’t been eating with their usual friends, but at the back corner with Claude and Hilda.

Felix had been missing from his room and the training grounds every night after dinner when Sylvain looked for him. Felix was spending his evenings with Claude. In Claude’s room. Presumably in Claude’s bed.

Oh goddess, Sylvain thought to himself, Felix was probably there when he caught Claude moaning the previous night. 

Hilda nudged him closer to the door, “Well, who is it?”

Sylvain moved as close to the door as possible without giving their presence away and leaned his head in to listen closely.

“You can stay the night if you want. Unlike you, I don’t bite,” Claude said. Sylvain could practically hear the wink in his voice.

“And have someone see me leave in the morning? No thank you,” Felix said brusquely.

Sylvain saw the door knob start to turn and stumbled over himself as Hilda pulled him back toward where they came. 

They made it a little way down the hallway when the door to Hilda’s room opened. Felix emerged from the door, visibly tousled and, even from several feet away, noticeably flushed. His shirt was half untucked and Sylvain caught him haphazardly doing up the buttons. 

Felix’s hair had broken free from his usual, highly unorthodox, ponytail and Sylvain’s eyes lingered on the midnight strands that now fell against his neck. An overwhelming thought flitted through his mind and pushed all other thoughts far, far away: pretty. 

Claude followed Felix out into the hallway, shirtless and covered in fresh bruises along his neck. A different wave of thoughts and feelings hit Sylvain like a runaway wyvern. These feelings were new, unfamiliar. 

Jealousy, sharp and strong, mixed with profound disappointment as well as something else, something akin to understanding—as if Sylvain finally understood some deep truth about himself and about Felix.

Frozen to the spot, he watched as Claude reached out toward Felix and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, before he turned back and went inside Hilda’s room. Felix looked down at this hand with an expression that Sylvain couldn’t quite understand and then continued down the hallway, presumably to return to his own room. Neither of them had even glanced in Sylvain and Hilda’s direction. 

“Fuck,” Sylvain cursed and without thought his feet hurriedly took him away from Hilda and toward Felix’s room.

As his footsteps reverberated down the hallway, Claude peeked his head out Hilda’s room and flashed her a grin.

“Another perfect scheme from yours truly,” he said with a theatrical bow.

“I’m pretty sure this one was mostly my doing,” she grinned.

“Fair,” he smiled back at her. 

Then silence fell as they both stood awkwardly, the marks on Claude’s body leaving a lot of unanswered questions for what should happen next.

Claude broke the silence, “You won’t be surprised to know that I’ve got another great idea, want to come on in and discuss with me?”

Hilda gave him a devilish grin that he was becoming too familiar with. “Only if you keep your shirt off, Mr. Leader Man.”

* * *

Sylvain scrambled down the hallway. He hoped that his long strides would carry him to Felix before he could escape to his room. His luck held and he managed to catch up to Felix just as he passed the door to Lorenz’s room.

“Felix,” Sylvain called after him.

Felix turned around, gave Sylvain a quick glance, and then resolutely continued on toward his own room. Sylvain jogged the last few steps and touched the back of Felix’s elbow just as he turned toward the door to his room.

“Felix,” he repeated.

Felix turned fully toward Sylvain and their eyes met. Without saying a word, an understanding passed between the both of them that Sylvain had witnessed Claude and Felix’s intimacy. Still, they both sat in silence for several seconds, Sylvain’s hand lingered on Felix’s elbow.

“So,” Sylvain said at last, “when I asked you to pick up girls with me you didn’t want to because you’re uh--” 

Felix gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Sylvain. I’m gay.”

Sylvain dropped his hand from Felix’s elbow and rubbed the back of his neck. He gave an awkward laugh.

“So maybe I should have been trying to help you pick up men instead?” 

With that, Felix turned and wrenched open the door to his room. He stomped in and slammed the door shut after him without another word to Sylvain. Sylvain, deliberated for the briefest of moments before he settled on following Felix through the door, albeit with far more calm and no slammed doors.

In the corner of the room, Felix tugged angrily at his cloak and threw it along the floor. He seemed insistent on not looking at Sylvain at all.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sylvain asked quietly from the entryway.

“Why didn’t you ask?” Felix retorted.

Sylvain took a few more tentative steps into the room and gestured toward the bed.

“May I?” he asked.

Felix nodded curtly. Without a word, they both took a seat next to each other on the edge of the bed. The feelings of jealousy, disappointment, and understanding all flooded back into Sylvain’s brain. 

“I’m glad you found someone,” Sylvain said at last.

Felix’s eyes snapped to Sylvain’s. “What?” 

“Claude.”

Felix groaned deeply. “I told those idiots their scheme wouldn’t work.”

“What scheme?” Sylvain asked.

“You’re an idiot too,” Felix said before he rose to his knees, leaned in, and pressed his chapped lips against Sylvain’s. 

Sylvain gasped in surprise and after a moment Felix pulled back, a slight flush in his cheeks. Sylvain licked at his lower lip and grazed his hand over it, as if he was testing to see if his lips were still attached.

“I don’t understand,” Sylvain said.

“You never do,” Felix said as he leaned in for another kiss.

There were more words to be said, a fuller explanation that Felix owed Sylvain. For now, though, it was enough for Felix to nip at Sylvain’s lips, to feel their tongues pressed against each other, and to finally know what he tasted like. 

Eventually their need for air overcame their need to memorize the taste and feel of each other’s lips. With flushed faces and gasping breaths they looked at each other and both saw something and someone new.

“So,” Sylvain asked with a breathless whisper, “does this mean I can watch next time you’re with Claude?”

Felix reached for the nearest pillow and decided that excellent kisses be damned, he was still going to kill the fool.

* * *

* * *

**BONUS SCENE!: What exactly were Claude and Felix doing?**

“Okay, let’s go over the plan one last time.” 

Felix groaned and sheathed the dagger he had been sharpening back in it’s holder before looking up at Claude.

“I can follow your stupid plan,” Felix retorted. 

Claude chuckled, “I know you can, I’m worried you won’t.” 

“Fine,” Felix sighed. “We wait until Marianne, how you roped her into this nonsense is beyond me, knocks on the wall to indicate that she heard Hilda and Sylvain coming up the stairs. When she does that, we will lean against the door and make lewd noises.” 

Claude waited for Felix to overcome his bashfulness and continue.

“We will make enough noise to make our behavior clear before I exit the room to be ‘caught’,” Felix continued. 

Claude nudged Felix with his foot, “Do you remember our lines?” 

“Ugh, why you must make me repeat this nonsense more than one--”

“Felix,” Claude chastised, “This is the last time, promise.” 

A knock on the wall interrupted them, saving Felix from rehearsing again. They both quickly scrambled toward the door. 

Felix turned toward Claude who reached his hands out to the other man’s hips. Claude waited a moment with his hands outstretched for Felix’s consent to move forward with the plan. Felix nodded briefly and Claude took that as his cue to push Felix against the door. His body crashed against the door with a muffled thump.

Claude leaned his head forward and uttered a deep, convincing moan. Felix remained stiff as a board beneath his hands and he refused all eye contact.

Claude smirked and gave one more fake moan.

“Come on, Felix,” he whispered, “it’s your turn.” 

“Then stop looking at me,” Felix hissed.

Claude chuckled and spun around, now standing with his back toward Felix. “Happy now?”

He breathed one final moan before he gave Felix’s side a quick elbow.

“Oh fuck,” Felix groaned as convincingly as possible. 

_Damn_ , Claude thought to himself, _that boy can perform_. Sylvain seemed to agree because both of them could hear panicked whispers through the door. Hook line and sinker. 

“You can stay the night if you want. Unlike you, I don’t bite,” Claude said.

**Author's Note:**

> AJ: I've done it. I've finally written Sylvix. Kudos and comments greatly appreciated. I respond to every comment!
> 
> Come yell at me on twitter: @ajstyyling
> 
> Caitlin: I made AJ write a Sylvix with me but he’d only do it if it was also Hilclaude #claudelixishot (@onebedmanyships, I have 0 tweets yet)


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